Heated
by WC43
Summary: A warm couple of weeks at Hogwarts castle inspire some interesting methods of cooling off. DM/HP. Oneshot.


Ah, summer break.

It's been ages since I've had a go at this, so I thought I'd crank out a nice smutty one shot before going back to work in the next couple of days!

It's good weather for this, so I'm ready to go!

Here it is:

Heated

(Yet another) Drarry Fic

By WC43

When the sun rose on the first day of May, the entire castle of Hogwarts knew that it was in for a warm spring. Within two weeks, however, they were sweltering. The humidity had skyrocketed, and the sun beat down through a muggy insulating layer that clung over the campus like its population's sodden clothing. The staff had cast every cooling spell it had, but the castle's walls radiated and the limp breeze through the doorways brought the muggy heat in faster than they could counter it. A large majority of the students had taken to charming themselves and their clothing to cool themselves down, and another large majority had wound up in the hospital wing with various frostbites, colds, and various other weather-related maladies. To sum it up: they were hot. Incurably, insufferably hot.

The day upon which we pick up our tale, however, was the hottest day so far. It was maddeningly hot. Classes had been canceled, fans had been charmed to spin, and everyone from the Headmaster to the lowliest house elf lay sprawled somewhere in the castle, trying to remain cool.

Harry Potter, for example, was currently using freezing spells to ice over the puddle of sweat he laid in, laying his bare back against the ice until it melted again a few minutes later. He was still hot. The rest of the Gryffindor commons lay empty, the very image of red and gold having been too hot to bear. Everyone else had fled to the dark of the dungeons, trying to avoid Snape and at the same time discover one of the usual trickles of condensation running down the walls in the lower levels. Harry had remained, too hot and tired to even think of moving, and now he was alone.

He rolled over and iced his puddle again, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck sticking to the ice for a split second before it began to melt. It was just too hot. He pried himself up off of the floor, jiggly with dehydration and blood that had surely become steam by now. He would see if there was anyone in the prefects bathroom, and would run himself an icy bath, although a few people might have to be Levicorpused out of his way. He _would_ get cool, by Merlin!

Draping the cloak of invisibility over his more-than-half-naked form, he set off on his quest. After a few panting, sweaty breaks, and a debate on the merits of simply summoning his broom and dive-bombing into the lake, he made it to the bath. It was mercifully empty. He shucked his final layers, climbed into the tub, and pulled the stopper for cold water, laying down on the cool marble as the water pooled around him. He nearly moaned aloud as the cold, fresh water caressed his skin and began to lift him off of the ground, dissolving the sweat that had begun to glue him there. His whole body was submerged, now, still floating upwards toward the edge like a refreshing, full-body elevator. This time, he did moan aloud. The water was like heaven, closing around his entire body and gripping him gently as it pulled him higher.

It felt a little bit sensual, he thought, in those terms. With the water wrapped around him, undulating and pressing and invading his body, he could almost hear breaths panting in his ear. He rolled in the water and pressed his lips to the cool surface, drinking in the frozen essence of the bath. He licked it. Then sucked it. Then giggled. It was quite sexy. He rolled onto his back again, still floating but letting his legs sink into the water, bringing his slightly heated groin down into the depths. His torso and head were pulled up, and he found himself staring into a pair of glistening gray eyes.

He coughed, spluttered, and inhaled a half a lungful of water.

"Malfoy?!"

Draco did not react, or even move. His eyes remained fixed on the water somewhere around Harry's belly button. This is when Harry realized that the Malfoy heir was incredibly shiny, redder than a turnip, and had his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a warm dog, dipping in slightly with every pant. He had apparently managed to drag himself here, find Harry molesting the fixtures, and then fallen into catatonic shock. With a grunt, Harry dragged him into the water.

It was Malfoy's turn to splutter and inhale the bath water.

"Potter?! What the hell?!"

Harry shrugged. "I was here first, but you looked like you were going to die."

Draco quickly assembled a chart in his mind.

He was torn between:

A) Being furious with Potter for invading his personal space, tossing him into a cold bath, and being naked within view

And B) Throwing his face into the water and drinking until he threw up.

He opted for B, although Potter pulled his face out of the water before the vomiting could commence.

"Are you trying to bloody kill yourself?"

Draco, now well hydrated enough to be snide, smirked. "Why, Potter, it almost feels like you care!"

Harry tossed the silvery-blonde face away from himself and swam back a few feet, glaring.

"I'm not going to make you leave, but you'd better mind your business."

"What, like I don't have anything better to do than peep at the boy wonder?"

"Look, Malfoy, I don't care what you have to do, as long as it doesn't involve me. I just came here to cool down."

"Fine. God knows you don't have the mental capacity to appreciate my witty banter, anyway, Potter."

"Malfoy, you're a dolt. Now zip it."

Draco held his tongue, knowing that to antagonize the already irritated boy-wizard would most likely result in pain or embarrassment. He had seen the boy-who-lived fire off many an accidental spell that ended up doing something unexpected, and the last thing he wanted was a new facial feature or any less limbs. Swimming to a bench set into the side, the young Slytherin slid to a seated position and closed his eyes.

Harry was surprised by the suddenly taciturn Malfoy who now lounged across from him. It was quite unlike the other boy to be so submissive, but Harry supposed he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, and settled on the opposite bench. The lapping waves caused by their movement soon subsided, and the room was silent.

After about fifteen minutes, both boys were cool and bored. The water, which had been so mercifully cool, was now vaguely tepid, and their minds, which had been so focused on the heat, were now wandering to other subjects. The longer they sat there, the farther they wandered.

"Did you ever end up banging Chang?"

Harry's head shot up, staring shocked at the still-relaxed form in front of him.

"Pardon?"

"I dunno…" returned the Slytherin, sounding far more relaxed and conversational than Harry had ever heard him. "Everyone knew you two were a thing, I just wondered how far you had gotten."

Harry stared at him for a few more seconds, then let his head flop back. "Nah. She was still awfully wrapped up in Cedric, and since I was there when he… it was just…"

"Awkward," provided Draco, and Harry provided a soft, "Yeah," in affirmation.

They fell into another lull, which was quickly interrupted by the sounds of footsteps in the hallway. Both Harry and Draco instinctively looked up, grabbed their wands, and shot a quick locking spell on the door, followed by a silencing charm. It rattled in protest, then fell silent, and they both looked at each other and let out a little chuckle, settling back down into their places.

"So what about you and Parkinson, then? You two always seemed like you were a… thing."

Draco snorted. "Nah, she just likes being Queen Slytherin. And I'm, by heritage, the king."

"Huh. I guess I never thought of it that way."

"You're one to talk, Potter. You've got the rest of the school under your thumb."

"When it suits them."

"Eh, true. Well then, half-time Lord-Hogwarts, who would you be using your semi-mighty powers to woo, if not the lovely Cho?"

Harry fell silent, scrunching his eyebrows together. "I dunno… None of the girls here seem any good, you know? I suppose I've been busy but I've never noticed one of them in particular and been blown away."

Draco was surprised. "The famous sex-god Potter, uninterested in the stock?"

Harry laughed. "I know, right? What about you then? You're the dark prince of Slytherin, you must have access to the ladies."

Draco thought for a second. "I suppose it's the same thing with me. I guess I would go for it, if one of them offered, but they aren't exactly throwing themselves at the ice prince when they can have the rugged Quidditch captain with the dragon tattoo on his chest, you know."

Harry sat up, looking at the boy across from him curiously. "I always thought they'd like you better. You've got the mystique thing going… Dark clothes, the hair, the eyes… I dunno."

He looked down at his hands, so much thicker and more calloused than the smooth, slender hands of the boy across from him. He was manly, but the boy across from him was… pretty.

He looked up to meet Draco's eyes, this time glimmering with curiosity. Suddenly the other boy was near him, standing next to him, arm held against arm.

"You're awfully tan… is that what the girls like? You're like… gold."

"I'm not sure… I always thought they'd go for whatever you've got going… the marbley…alabaster thing."

They roamed each other's bodies, inspecting for differences.

"Your eyes are just so green, you know?"

"And yours are all gray… they're… I don't know how to describe it without sounding like a prat."

"I'm pretty sure we're beyond that, Potter. We can blame it on the heat. And besides, this is for scientific research!"

Harry laughed. "Okay. Well, I guess they look like the sky in a storm, or in really good Quidditch weather."

Draco laughed back. "Leave it to you to bring it to Quidditch."

"Hey, don't judge! Science!"

"Fine. Yours look like…" Draco leaned closer, eyes narrowing and nose brushing Harry's. He could feel the other boy's breath across his cheeks.

"The trees, when you're beneath them and the sun's shining through," declared Malfoy, leaning back smugly. Harry discovered he could breathe again, and wondered when he had stopped.

"Now, the hair…" said Draco, scrutinizing Harry carefully. "I think I win that one, if only for pure use of styling products."

"Hey! I try my best! This stuff is evil!"

"Please," scoffed Draco.

Harry offered his head, and Draco plowed his hand into it, ready to provide a diagnosis. Instead, he moaned.

"Sweet Merlin, that's soft!"

Harry blushed. "It's not super–" Draco's ministrations in his hair cut him off with a groan. The blonde's slender fingers were dancing across his scalp and sending shivers down his spine. Draco pulled him forwards to examine his new discovery more fully, and Harry was shifted into an awkward kneeling position before him. Not to be outdone, he slid a hand into Draco's hair, now dry from his earlier dunking and clean of all gels. It was like heaven.

"…Blimey," he murmured.

It was with this hoarse declaration that the spell was broken and they realized that they were entangled in each other's hair, nearly touching and panting slightly. Neither attempted to pull away. Harry's hand twitched, still resting along Draco's scalp, and a soft moan escaped their lips they knew they were far beyond any of their previous boundaries, out of sight of their declaration of "just science".

Their eyes clashed, green on gray.

In the next moment, their bodies caught up to the fact that they were close, and decided that they had finally found what they had been craving. The rush of blood away from brains and into groins was immediate and visceral, and they could feel each other now, brushing gently under the water. The contact sent shivers along their spines, making toes curl and legs thrust forward instinctively. In a snap they had collided, lips tugging and hands roaming and bodies rubbing and thrusting and needing. They had never known such strange, body-consuming passion, but they knew this was nothing to be fought and simply let it carry them along with it. They took each other in, surrounding body with body, and the illicit splashing of the bath was drowned out by the sounds of their desire.

Harry knew, somewhere, in the back of his mind, that there was no going back after this.

Draco knew, in the back of his mind, that he didn't care.

Pale silvery strands tangled in chaotic tufts of black silk. Rough, athletic hands caressed soft skin. Tender lips met their equals.

For a second, they pulled away, staring into each other's eyes and making sure that they hadn't been completely erased by the the passion that had swept over them. In those eyes, however, they found much more. There was the unmistakable sheen of lust, sparkling with curiosity and the lightest dusting of fear. That fear, they decided, didn't belong there. The press of lips grew gentle, soothing and trusting and soft. Then, they began to roam, coaxing their lover back into the frenzy they knew was building in their own bodies as well.

Harry's lips were the first to travel southward, dancing along the pulse in Draco's neck and parting to allow his tongue to dance on the skin there. Teeth grazed collar bone and nibbled on ear lobe before dancing lower to meet chest. He laved Draco's nipples and kissed his way in between them, and it was all the blonde could do to hold on to the dark head dancing before him and try not to scream his name so loud that the entire staff came running. Silencing charms could only do so much.

When Harry's head had finished creeping slowly down Malfoy's happy trail, a small hand of consciousness came through the fog of lust in Draco's head, pointing out that he had done none of the work so far. Malfoy groaned as lips met his shaft, but pulled the other boy away. There was surprise in the green eyes, but Draco washed that away with a quick change of position and a small series of kisses run along Harry's jaw.

He took a similar route as the darker boy had, but he allowed his hands to roam free, tickling and stroking and teasing the Gryffindor in a way that could only be described as maddening. Harry's body arched into Draco's touch, and he very nearly came when the pale lips caressed the tip of his throbbing member.

Pulling Draco up his body, he caught his mouth in another fiery kiss, not wanting this to end any time soon.

Draco chuckled, knowing what the other boy was doing. He pulled the golden boy closer.

"I'm always up for seconds, you know... Maybe thirds."

Harry's eyes widened and glazed over, and this was all the invitation Draco needed. He slid down, slightly nervous but still ready to do this. He took Harry inside his mouth and was rewarded with the deepest, throatiest moan he had ever heard. It was the sound of raw pleasure. Draco was determined to hear it more.

They spent the rest of the afternoon and into the night like this, coaxing pleasure out of each other and ramping up the desire for the next round. They eventually fell asleep on the bathroom floor, sprawled on a towel they had found at some point during the night. They awoke that morning still joined, ready for the other to panic, to run. Instead, they smiled and went back to sleep. Today was going to be another hot day.

Myrtle, perched in the rafters, giggled. She couldn't agree more.

--

So… yes?

Read, review, comment, fave.

Love!

Thanks to skittles-07 and zerofangirl for pointing out that I ended this with roughly zero finesse. These additional few paragraphs are for you two, so all future readers should direct their appreciation in that direction if they like the fact that this is more than a one-paragraph love scene. (I really appreciate reviews with substance! [although I can't say I'm not a fan of the ones that just tell me I'm awesome... ] Plus, you guys were totally right. 3 )


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